‘You’re right.’ She grins, but too widely. ‘I’m late enough to the party as it is.’
I turn away to sort myself out and the crumpled red fabric catches my eye. ‘Do you have another swimsuit? If not, I can—’
‘I’m fine. I have another.’
‘Not...’ I remember the pool. ‘Not the black number?’
‘Is that a problem?’ She pulls the shower head off its rest and starts to rinse between her legs. Her intention is innocent enough but it burns through me. Right along with the memory of her in that swimsuit.
Cazzo. ‘No, no problem.’
She lifts her gaze to me, her eyes sparkling now. ‘Good. You want to come and get clean?’
I swallow, toss the condom in the bin and walk towards her.
But as I join her and our eyes meet, Dani’s words come back ever louder: I know this can only ever be a bit of fun for you but for her... She wants it all, Raf. She’ll fall for you and then what?
Then what? exactly...
CHAPTER TWELVE
Danielle and Tyler’s Wedding Week
Saturday: The Wedding. Five-thirty p.m.
I TAKE HOLD of Dani’s hands and give them a squeeze. ‘You ready?’
She gives a rapid nod and I feel her nerves through her trembling fingers.
‘Just breathe,’ I say.
Her emotions have been running high ever since I entered her room this morning armed with a bustling team of hair and make-up artists ready to make us look the part. I’ve never seen her less than a hundred percent confident, but today there’s a nervous edge to her and she actually does appear more blushing bride than the usual strutting diva.
‘Good.’ I beam at her encouragingly. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
‘Uh-huh! I’m so glad you’re with me, Faye.’
‘Where else would I be when my BFF is getting married?’
She takes a shaky breath that’s interrupted by a knock on the door. Her eyes dart to it and I give her fingers another squeeze before releasing them.
‘Here we go.’
I head to the bedroom door, preparing myself now, because I know who’s on the other side and I haven’t seen him since the yacht, which was over thirty-six hours ago. He, Dante, Tyler and Harry took themselves off to the private villa just beyond the pool area yesterday morning, in keeping with the tradition of separating the bride and groom the night before the wedding. But the distance hasn’t helped how I feel about him, it hasn’t stopped my heart which seems determined to care.
The problem is, I know who he is. I know he’s a sworn bachelor running from love, but I saw the way he looked at me on the yacht, I heard the words laced with so much meaning, and it didn’t feel like pure lust, it felt like more. So much more. And even when we were at our best, Bobby never made me feel like that. Not once.
But, as I pause before the door, I remember that this is Dani’s day. This is about her heart, her love, her life. Not mine. I take hold of the door handle and take a deep breath, my eyes going back to Dani, and I give her an encouraging smile. She is stunning. Her dress is sheer and formfitting, flowers trailing over the nude under layer in such a way as to blend fabric into skin. It’s tasteful, elegant, and still sexy. Her hair is tied back in a loose chignon that replicates mine, with the same baby’s breath, and the addition of blush-coloured roses that match the shade of my fishtail dress. She looks angelic and sinful in one.
‘Okay?’ I say.
She nods, takes up her bouquet and clutches it in front of her.
I pull open the door and turn to face him. I’m ready for this.
‘Hi.’ It comes out as heady as I feel. Prepared? As if!
I’ve missed him. Oh, how I’ve missed him. And that look... His eyes smoulder and burn, his throat bobs and he raises his hand to his tie, adjusting it, though he doesn’t need to.
‘Buongiorno, Faye.’
It’s a deep murmur that has my insides quivering. I touch a hand to my hair again and he smiles. It’s dazzling in its intensity, breath-taking in its sincerity. ‘You look...you look exquisite.’
He pockets his hands and I wonder whether he wants to reach for me as much as I do him. Is he remembering the last time he said those words to me on the yacht, in the mirror...?
‘As do you.’
And truly he does. His hair is swept back high off his face, his facial hair groomed, enhancing his bold cheekbones and the cut to his jaw. The deep blue shade of his suit brings out the bronze of his skin, the molten chocolate of his eyes, and makes him appear every bit the successful and intimidating billionaire, though I know him to be so much more.
‘Grazie.’
It’s gruff, raw, and for the first time I see a smudge of black beneath his eyes and lines I don’t remember being so obvious before. I open my mouth to ask if he’s okay before remembering that now isn’t the time.
‘Nothing beats your little sister, though.’ I hurry out, stepping back to let him enter.
He walks in, his eyes leaving me to find Dani. His smile stills and his eyes shine. ‘Wow, sorellina.’
‘Is that a good wow?’ she asks tentatively. ‘Or a what were you thinking wow?’
‘Sei troppo bella.’ He pauses before her and shakes his head, clears his throat. ‘I only wish our father were here to see you.’
‘Don’t, Raf.’ She sniffs and stiffens her spine. ‘You mustn’t make me cry, not now.’
He pulls her into a hug that’s awkward due to the bouquet and the dress. ‘No tears.’
But his own voice is laced with them and I don’t need to see his face to know he’s suffering too. My own eyes spike and it’s me clearing
